


Stardust

by lajustice



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lajustice/pseuds/lajustice
Summary: Tonight, Jounouchi registers with a sudden cold dread, the screams are different, have a new, unprecedented edge to them. He can feel the blood freeze in his veins as he scrambles over to where Kaiba has collapsed in on himself, long, slender fingers splayed across his face as if attempting to shield his eyes from an unseen terror, nails digging into his skin so violently they started drawing blood.





	Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect to be back so soon but I've been thinking about this particular headcanon a lot lately and just couldn't help myself. It's definitely on the angsty side (again), however, I promise that the situation will be resolved in the second half. 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading as well as the kudos/comments on my last fic, every single one honestly makes my day!

A faint sigh of relief escapes Kaiba’s lips when he pulls the car door shut behind himself and sinks into the driver’s seat, the leather feeling cool and smooth to his touch, the silence soothing to his mind after hours of exchanging empty pleasantries with people, who, for all he knows, continue lying in wait for him to finally fall from grace. Kaiba closes his eyes and relishes the moment of solitude, his hands reaching up to loosen his tie. He can breathe again. 

The only prospect that he’s been looking forward to more than the escape from the hotel’s conference room tonight is his return to the peaceful confines of home. Despite himself, despite the bone-deep exhaustion and lingering tension in his shoulders, he can’t help the faintest trace of a smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth, his mind wandering to a familiar pair of arms sneaking around his waist from behind, gentle hands teasing up the front of his dress shirt and tugging at the buttons as he’s settling down on the couch and back against his partner’s chest, all hard muscle and soothing warmth. He will never be able to wrap his head around how effortlessly Jounouchi makes him feel safe to unwind. He will never admit how much he craves it.

About two years ago, Kaiba knew bleak, empty corridors, cold sheets and stifling silence, the horrors of his nightmares creeping up on him in the dark and eating away at him night after night, whenever he couldn’t muster the energy to keep his eyes from falling shut for another tiresome minute. He hadn’t begun to comprehend what it would mean to be welcomed by bright eyes and vibrant smiles after one too many tedious business meetings, to be cared for with loud, stunning passion and slowly, tentatively realizing that he could trust _him_ , if not anyone else, with unveiling bits and pieces of his soul, locked away too deep within for too long; that it was okay. Hadn’t considered for even a moment that he could have this. Would have laughed anyone, who had dared suggesting that he needed this, in the face with false haughtiness, covering up the gnawing vacancy in his heart. Kaiba wishes there was a way for him to _tell_ Jounouchi without the weight of the words getting stuck in his throat every time that they’re threatening to spill out.

With decidedly more difficulty than it should have taken, Kaiba wills himself to snap out of his drifting thoughts and picks up his phone, idly scrolling through his notifications before tapping out a single message.

_I just wrapped up the meeting. I’m on my way._

A slight frown passes over his face when the words _not delivered_ glare back at him immediately. After three more attempts at re-sending the text he finally, grudgingly, accepts that Jounouchi’s phone must be turned off. It strikes him as a little strange, however, being used to an almost instant response. As if Jounouchi was waiting for his return with an unspoken impatience that leveled his own. That’s what he likes to imagine anyway.

Starting the engine and forcing himself to focus on the road ahead, Kaiba merges onto the highway. Traffic is slow and he repeatedly catches himself glancing over to where the screen of his phone remains dark and quiet. With each passing minute it becomes harder to ignore. Harder to stomp down the mixture of irrational disappointment and nagging concern. The city spreads out in front of him, an endless sea of bright lights rushing past him in a blur, reflecting off the rippled surface of the river to his left in a stark contrast to the inside of the car, plunged into near-complete darkness. Normally a source of calm, the moving shadows appear to be closing in on him. 

It takes him a little more than half an hour until he finally pulls into his driveway, the mansion towering above him disturbingly silent and oppressive. Something feels distinctively _off_. The sense of unease that overcame him in the car escalates into irrepressible nausea, roars in his ears like thunder. A chill runs through him, leaving his skin crawl.

The last thing he expects to see when he brings himself to step out of the car is the meager silhouette that is uncomfortably perched on the bottom step of stone stairway leading up to the main entrance of his home. Shoulders slumped and legs drawn up to his chest, Yuugi looks deflated, a picture of plain misery compared to the usual abundance of cheerfulness and optimism, which Kaiba continues finding difficult to tolerate. When he approaches with long, purposeful strides, the boy leaps to his feet, expression cautious but to equal amounts agonized and, to Kaiba’s dismay, sympathetic.

“Kaiba, I-

“May I ask how _you_ managed to get through the gate without the guard having been given my explicit permission?”

Yuugi winces.

“It doesn’t matter, this … this is about Jounouchi …”

_No._

Kaiba’s mouth dries up, the color draining from his face in dreadful anticipation.

“What about him?” he snaps, the words heavy on his tongue, voice clipped and dangerously close to breaking.

“He … Jounouchi was over at the game shop for a movie night with me and Honda. He wasn’t sure when you’d be done with work so he left early. The driver of the van didn’t see his motorcycle when he turned. I’m so sorry Kaiba, he-“

The ground gives out under his feet before Yuugi gets to finish his sentence. Time seems to be slowing as the air is being knocked out of his chest and his knees are colliding with the cold hard pavement, the shadows closing in on him, white noise drowning out the world and every other sound around him, eyes wide, vision going blank with panic and sorrow, cutting so deep his soul can’t bear the pain of it. He covers his face and screams, screams through the feeling of his body convulsing, being ripped apart from the inside out until he can feel his consciousness starting to slip from his grasp.

 

-

 

Jounouchi is awake within the split of a second, his mind painfully clear, his body moving on autopilot. It’s nearly been three weeks. Three weeks since Kaiba’s demons last descended upon him in his sleep when he lies stripped of his defences, viciously winding their way into his head and tearing open old wounds that time won’t heal, grating on his sanity. No matter how many times he witnesses Kaiba burst and shatter, he will never be prepared for the way his heart aches at the sight of him, unspeakable grief, helplessness and red hot anger boiling under the surface of what he hopes to be the calm exterior that he tries to keep up for Kaiba’s sake. 

He can’t pinpoint the moment when his occasional late-night visits gradually blurred into him staying by Kaiba’s side until the break of dawn, watching him sit up with a weary expression on his face and pinch the bridge of his nose after only a few hours of fitful rest. But he remembers the hushed conversations as though it was yesterday, the tangible tension between them when he first awkwardly sat on the edge of Kaiba’s bed, piercing blue eyes studying his every movement, the thrill that set alight every inch of his flushed skin when he worked up the courage to reach across the distance and weave his fingers through silken strands of hair, Kaiba’s eyes glazing over at the sensation. They didn’t talk about it, didn’t need to. Not with Kaiba’s head resting in his lap and Jounouchi’s fingertips absentmindedly tracing along the prominent lines of his cheekbones, his jaw, the softened curve of his lips. The shock that jolted through him as he heard Kaiba scream later that night made the fine hairs on his arms stand on end, the sound burnt into his memory, distressing, haunting.

Tonight, Jounouchi registers with a sudden cold dread, the screams are different, have a new, unprecedented edge to them. He can feel the blood freeze in his veins as he scrambles over to where Kaiba has collapsed in on himself, long, slender fingers splayed across his face as if attempting to shield his eyes from an unseen terror, nails digging into his skin so violently they started drawing blood. Seized by an overwhelming rush of panic, Jounouchi grabs Kaiba’s shaking hands and carefully pries them away from where they leave angry, crescent-shaped marks. The tormented, far-away look in his eyes hits him like a punch in the stomach. Even during Kaiba’s worst nights Jounouchi has never seen him like this, broken with no life left in him, no will to rise back up and keep fighting.

“Seto …” he finally manages to croak out, gently running two fingers down Kaiba’s jaw and nudging up his chin in an effort to meet his gaze.

_Please look at me. I know you’re in there somewhere, please._

A minute of silence stretches out between them. Every second feels like an eternity.

When Kaiba finally glances up at him the expression on his face shifts from horror to bewilderment to a furious storm of emotions at a sickening pace. Jounouchi stares back, his lips parting as his mind is struggling to provide the right words, but Kaiba doesn’t give him a chance. The next thing he knows, he is being knocked back against the mattress, Kaiba’s hands vigorously clutching at his chest, as if to make sure that he was real, as if he could slip from his grasp at any moment, like stardust through his fingertips. 

They’re so close, Jounouchi’s vision narrows down to the glint of heavy tears caught between long, fine lashes in the dark.

“Are you …”

“ _I don’t care_ ,” Kaiba shouts, his voice bordering on hysterical. In over two years Jounouchi has never seen him cry, didn’t expect that he ever would. “I don’t care, you were _dead_!”

His eyes widen at the sudden desperate outpour of words, his heart sinks as he processes their meaning, connects the dots between being jolted from his sleep by Kaiba falling apart at the seams and what remains unspoken, yet echoing from the walls so loud, Kaiba may as well have yelled it in his face. _I lost everything. My entire life has been a merciless succession of pain, loss and ruin. Regardless, against all caution, I’ve chosen to take the risk and let you in. Don’t you understand? Don’t you see that losing you now is one more blow than I can take?_

Kaiba’s eyes bore into his own with icy fire, fervid and all-consuming, flames lashing out uncontrollably and threatening to scorch him but Jounouchi sees right through it, sees the raw agony in their bottomless depths, the panic, the fear. Ever since the day they met, Kaiba instinctively resorted to rage when feeling cornered, confronted with emotion that he couldn’t afford acknowledging, let alone understand, stubbornly barrelling through anything and anyone in his way, aggression distracting from any hint of vulnerability.

Jounouchi refuses to let him hide, bottle up, fall apart on the inside all over again.

Slowly, he lifts his arms and runs his hands up Kaiba’s rigid back, feeling his tension in every muscle, concentrating all the tenderness he feels for him into one lingering touch. There’s no space left between them when he eventually pulls Kaiba into a firm embrace.

“Aren’t you supposed to know me better than this?” Jounouchi whispers, a fond yet lightly teasing tone to his voice, significantly more lighthearted than he feels. Running his lips down Kaiba’s throat to the crook of his neck, he gently bites down on the exposed patch of delicate skin, the way he knows has Kaiba melting in the palm of his hand. “You won’t be getting rid of me so easily, now.”

If he feels a new gush of teardrops that aren’t his own soak through the soft fabric of his shirt, shaky fingers tightening their vice-like grip on his sides, he doesn’t comment on it, just holds Kaiba until the trembling begins to ebb away and Kaiba’s breathing evens out against his temple.

“I hate you,” Kaiba murmurs vaguely, refusing to reveal his face from where it’s still buried in Jounouchi’s hair, not even pretending to add any sting to the words.

_I love you_ , Jounouchi hears.

A knowing smile flickers across his lips and this time, he decides, there is no harm in letting Kaiba have his way, letting him keep up the act and find comfort behind the familiar guard. 

“Right back at ya,” he retorts, audibly rolling his eyes for good measure.

Kaiba huffs in feigned indignation but otherwise remains quiet. His heartbeat continues steadying down against Jounouchi’s chest, his body heat bleeding through the thin layers of fabric that separate them. For the moment it feels peaceful. 

With Kaiba tentatively relaxing in his arms, Jounouchi gets the opportunity to carefully roll the implications of everything that has occurred tonight over in his mind. The unfathomable sorrow that distorted the otherworldly elegance of Kaiba’s handsome features into a pained grimace, he hollowness that stared back at him, the _defeat_ , a concept that Jounouchi used to believe did not exist in Kaiba’s vocabulary up to this point. Strong, stubborn, prideful Kaiba, who would rather die than yield a fraction of an inch, fighting tooth and nail for his dreams and ambitions, always aiming higher, no obstacle too large to withstand the sheer force of his indomitable will. And yet, after all the misery, the trauma that Kaiba had survived, it was _him_ , the idea of his loss that threatened to make the light fade from his eyes, just a few minutes ago. Jounouchi’s mind struggles and, for the time being, fails to grasp this newly aquired knowledge, his heart crawling up into his throat as he buries his fingers into the hem of Kaiba’s shirt, so forcefully he can feel his knuckles turning white. As desperately as he desires to, Jounouchi realizes with a pang of helplessness that he can’t promise Kaiba anything that may be well beyond his power to keep. But he can make damn sure to pour his all, every last bit of his boundless love and passion, into him until to his last breath.

Interrupting his train of thoughts, Kaiba uneasily shifts on top of him and from the choked, startled noise that escapes his lips Jounouchi can tell that he must be struggling against the overwhelming exhaustion that’s settling down upon him heavily, once again.

“Go back to sleep, you silly, I’ll still be here when you wake up, waiting to be graced with your charming 6 a.m. crabbiness,” he assures him with a dramatic sigh. Kaiba shoots him a long, unreadable gaze, lids already half-closed, before he rolls over on his side and pulls him in closely.

“You are insufferable.”

Jounouchi smiles.

“Oh, am I now.”


End file.
